


Cursed and Gone

by HanHan_Solo156



Series: Hanhan’s Rammstein short stories [17]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Forests, Gen, Holiday not going as expected, Horror, Japan, No Romance, Scary, Spirits, ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27417082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanHan_Solo156/pseuds/HanHan_Solo156
Summary: Rammstein’s relaxing day off in Japan takes a different turn when the guys stumble on a forest: not just some ordinary one, one that is claimed to be sacred. Nothing could go wrong on a day of a fun adventure, right?Sometimes, it’s better to think twice before you realize there’s no coming back anymore.
Series: Hanhan’s Rammstein short stories [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1501421
Kudos: 13





	Cursed and Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, it's the same old hanhan156 who just decided to have a new nickname. 8-)
> 
> In our Discord channel, we had a prompt for October which was "horror" and this is my interpretation for the theme. I haven't written stuff like this before, so I hope it's decent and supposed to be scary as well, haha. The idea came to me already last year while I was writing short Halloween stories. One prompt I found was about "characters visiting a suicide forest in Japan". I didn't have time back then to write a story with that topic, but now it's here! It turned out to be much longer as I expected, but whatever.  
> The inspiration for this fic is Aokigahara forest in Japan, if you want to check the vibes for the story.
> 
> Enjoy the horror and happy late Halloween everyone!

After getting familiar with touring in Europe and in the US Rammstein had welcomed the refreshing opportunity to visit the continent they didn’t have so much experience from: Asia. Their first step was Japan: the country where ancient traditions met with modern technology, inhabited with polite, yet over-enthusiastic people. So far, they’ve had only positive experiences being the weirdo huge Europeans amongst one of the most homogenous people of the world.

The fresh, yet still pleasantly warm morning of the early autumn couldn’t have been any more perfect for a day off in the middle of a busy tour. This happened rarely, but today, they had decided to spend their time together in nature. Being inhabitants of one of the most packed and hasty capitals of Europe, strolling around in the peaceful nature paths wasn’t doing any harm for their weary bodies and minds. The other option would have been spending their free time just like in their younger days: getting drunk in hazy bars and embarrassing themselves in karaoke. Maybe the disgust for the idea was proof that they were getting old - whether they wanted to admit it or not.

Oliver stopped by a small cliff and breathed in the fresh air, far from the pollution of the city. Maybe it was his long legs or trekking experience, but he was much faster than the others, so he managed to have the luxury of being alone for a while. He let this moment sink in and allowed it to feed all of his senses: the overall feeling differed so much from what he was used to so he took now everything he could. Oliver couldn’t explain it anyhow - he just felt special both in his body and in his soul.

Unfortunately, that beautiful moment didn’t have a chance to last for long. “Oh man, did you Paul see that?” a familiar voice with his typical accent behind Oliver said and laughed a bit too loud. “A real macaque! Imagine if they were strolling like that in the streets of Berlin.” There was no question who it was: even Richard - the eternal hater of outdoor activities - didn't want to miss this day trip, so he had joined. Of course, a bit of persuading from Paul’s side had been needed. 

His bandmates were soon with Oliver and in secret, he pouted - his intimate moment had been interrupted. Yet, of course, he loved all of these guys even though how annoying and noisy they sometimes were. He forced a tiny smile when he turned around. “There are a lot of macaques around. It wasn’t such a bad idea to come here in the end, huh?”

Richard shrugged. “It’s ok, I guess.” After Oliver’s comment, he kicked pebbles on the ground, his cheeks reddening a bit from being too excited about some goddamn monkeys. “Staying in restaurants would have been better though, but this is passable as long it doesn’t start to rain.”

Paul next to him gave his fellow guitarist a nudge on the arm with his elbow. “And who was still complaining in the morning how it will be ‘so cold and so boring’ to walk in the forest the whole day!”

Everyone laughed and Richard grunted behind gritted teeth. He liked to be the center of attention, but not in this way.

“Let’s go,” he said when he didn’t have anything witty to say against. They were on their way again.

Like in numerous cliché paintings from this exotic country, a view of Mt. Fuji was right next to them. Paul was being sad when he had forgotten his camera to their hotel - this would have been worth commemorating.

The picturesque moment was ruined when Flake let out a loud noise and took Till’s arm. “STOP!” the keyboardist shrieked with an unnatural, high-pitched voice.

Oliver in front of the line turned around. “What is it? Is everything alright?”

“Oh nothing, just another macaque,” Till said with an apologetic smile. “Let’s proceed.”

“But they can have cooties, or steal our food, or… or…”

Used to their keyboardist’s hysterical ramblings, no one said anything, so Flake didn’t have any other choice than to follow this crazy caravan. “I don’t like all of these exotic animals,” he still complained in silence by himself.

When they had been walking for a good while, they reached a part where the atmosphere changed. Instead of the mild, almost summery weather, it turned cold. They all cursed when they hadn’t taken their coats with them. The sunlight dimmed: they realized they were about to step into a forest, but not like anything they had seen before. Thick, old trees covered it all the way - it was close to impossible to comprehend the length and depth of it. In the entryway, a sign appeared in front of them. Richard was almost passing it before he heard behind him their bassist shouting: “Reesh, wait!”

With an eyeroll and a dramatic sigh, Richard stopped and turned around. Still, in his fifties, he didn’t like to be commanded. “What? Did I step on monkey droppings or something?”

“Let me read this before we enter,” Oliver said and took steps closer to the text. Even though miles away from being fluent in Japanese, he at least recognized some kanjis and was technically their only hope - outside of the most popular tourist places in Japan, nearly nothing was in any European language.

The bass player kept his focus on the cryptic sign and stroked his beard. At the same time, he mumbled something vague by himself. 

“Well, what does it say?” Paul asked and tried to look at the sign in front of them even though it was as clear as Klingon for him. He knew only German, English, and a bit of Russian so he couldn’t be much help in this. Along with his fellow guitarist, he wasn’t the most patient one from their band. Till and Schneider didn’t mind though, they had sat down and kept admiring the peaceful surroundings. Flake was in his typical way looking around and shivering, looking like a lost kitten in the woods.

“Just give me a sec,” Ollie mumbled back. ”I just have a feeling that...” He repeated the sign to make sure he had understood correctly, “that even though it looks quite tempting, it might be wiser to turn around.”

“Why do you suddenly want to turn back?” Richard asked and dumped a cigarette that he had lighted up during the waiting, on the ground. “Just when the fun begins you want to chicken out! This place looks cool, so why not visit when we are here?”

Oliver picked up the cigar from the ground and flashed a meaningful look on their guitarist. “Hey, we are not in Berlin, show some respect at least.” He then cleared his throat and continued: “I think this place might be… sacred, yeah. I’ve read about places like this before.” Without noticing it himself, Oliver had lowered his voice. “The locals think here are some bad spirits you shouldn’t harass.” His eyes, now narrowed with concern, drifted on the sign and its weird writing.

Just shrugging, Richard didn’t answer anything. He crossed his arms and waited for the decrypting of the text.

“Yup, just as I thought,” Oliver said and scratched the nape of his neck. So far, they had been surprisingly lucky in the cultural environment that was unfamiliar for them, but now, he had a bad feeling about this. “Guys, I… I seriously think we shouldn’t enter. Let’s find some other place. There was a tourist center just where we began. Maybe we could go back and grab a beer and then think about what we should do next.”

But for the rebellious personality, warnings went to deaf ears. “Oh c’mon, not after we have walked like 10 kilometers!” Richard exclaimed so loud a small flock of birds flew away from a nearby tree. Even though he had complained earlier and the beer idea sounded tempting, he didn’t want to change his mind - just because he was Richard, the infamous diva of the band, and proud of his reputation. “Just let us have a quick check and then we could grab that damn beer, ok?”

“Richard,” Oliver said, sounding like a teacher who was about to give a lecture to the ever nuisance student, “in the sign it says something about these woods being the place for all the restless souls and entering is with your own responsibility.” 

“So? Do you believe in some kind of kindergarten ghost story bullshit then?” Richard asked with a mocking tone. 

Oliver bit his lower lip - he didn’t like the attitude the guitarist had towards him. Inside, there was a feeling he didn’t want to admit: superstition, especially in the foreign cultural environment. He’d had some wild experiences of spiritism back in the days so he knew this stuff shouldn’t be taken too easily. “Just that… I don’t want to take any risks when we are here. We have a concert to p--”

Before Oliver could even finish the sentence, Richard had already stepped in, followed by his loyal servant, Paul.

“Might be good for the inspiration,” Till mumbled and proceeded to the trail with Schneider.

Besides Oliver, one of them was still hesitating.

“What you… you said… meant something about spirits?” Flake asked with a trembling voice and glanced around him. “You mean there could be… _ghosts_?” The last word he whispered like it would have summoned something unholy here.

“I… I don’t know, honestly,” Oliver replied. “But I still think we can’t let those dumbasses go by themselves and get lost,” he added and just meekly followed his bandmates to the unknown. _Still not a good idea though._

“Oh motherfucking shit,” Oliver heard the grunting behind him, but of course, Flake had to follow his friends as well - the last thing he wanted was to stay behind and encounter some locals whose questions he couldn’t answer. He ran with his long legs and caught up with their bassist.

Not even requiring to walk much, Oliver already knew this place was somehow unusual: one thing he immediately noticed was that there weren’t any signs of animals. All around it was completely silent: you could only listen to your own frantic heartbeat. It was also much darker than in the previous trail they had been: the thick old trees blocked even the smallest attempts of sunbeams coming through. One could easily lose the sense of space and time here.

_Or lose their sanity,_ a thought appeared in Oliver’s mind, but he dropped it off immediately. No ghost stories were needed, but he could only wonder what these ancient woods had seen and heard over the years.

“See, no witches or unholy creatures, huh?” Richard exclaimed with a sarcastic sneer. “What a place, I’ve never seen anything like this!”

Oliver didn’t answer anything - he still found Richard’s manners rude. In a place like this, he didn’t want to speak that loud. There was no questioning it: there was some form of ancient spirituality in this place.

Walking started to make them hungry, so eventually, they stopped by a small cliff to eat and drink. Everyone had gotten tired of Paul complaining about how his stomach was growling, so they didn’t have much choice. 

While chewing his onigiri, something caught Till’s eye. “Guys… look,” he said and pointed at a tree that was thinner than most of them here and also, somehow out of place in the middle of a trail. The branches were completely dry - the poor tree’s best days were already in the past.

Before anyone could ask anything further, they all froze to their places when they saw what it was that had caught Till’s attention: a doll, that resembled eerily much of a little child, was hanging from that tree. Another of its eyes had been dug out, just a hollow black cavity was left. Once blond hair was messy and grey like it had been dragged in the mud. The doll’s dress was half ripped away, leaving it resembling a prostitute whose night with a client hadn’t gone as expected. 

“Heilige Scheisse,” Till said and let out a burst of laughter that echoed in the otherwise empty forest. “It’s eine _Puppe_ in real life.” Normal people would consider this grotesque but for the singer whose inner dark world was nourished from stuff like this, he just got more excited. He swallowed the onigiri without even chewing it properly and proceeded to look at the doll closer.

“What… what is it?” Flake asked and gulped. “Why… why would someone leave here a… doll?” He just stared at the sight, his mouth wide open, and couldn’t believe how Till didn’t seem to mind. “What has happened to it?”

“Someone has as fucked-up sense of humor as us, I assume,” Paul said dryly and acted like he wasn’t scared at all when he continued eating. His trembling hands might have revealed something else though.

“Who knows, maybe it’s just an art installation,” Schneider added, trying to be the voice of reason.

Till took the doll and put it in his backpack. “It’s my souvenir now,” he said with a smirk. “Do we have any coffee left?”

“Till, maybe it isn’t a good idea,” Oliver said. “Maybe we shouldn’t take anything from here without permission.”

“Oh c’mon, it was left here so it’s abandoned,” Till reasoned. “Besides, we could use it in our shows.” He came next to Oliver and patted his shoulder. “How cool would that be, a real horror doll!”

After the incident, they still walked along the path deeper inside to the forest. They couldn’t say it was getting any better though: they saw more dolls and ropes that were gently moved by the afternoon breeze. All of them had a faint idea what a person could do with ropes hanging from trees, but no one said anything out loud. Their former joking and bantering were vanishing, leaving them tired and weirded out for what they had seen. Only Till was still in a cheerful mood.

Before they even realized it, the sun was setting - just that it wasn’t as easy to get out as it had been to get in.

“Scheisse!” Richard exclaimed in frustration when the path he was sure to lead them to the starting point ended up them doing only circles. Taking his head in his hands, he sat down on a rock. “What are we gonna do now?”

Oliver tried to come up with something. He looked around and in the afternoon dusk, saw something: a small light. But what was the source of it?

Squinting and trying to comprehend was it just his mind doing tricks, he pointed at what he had just seen. “Guys…”

Everyone turned to look at him. Paul grabbed Richard’s hand and didn’t dare to move his eyes, big as saucers, from their bassist. “Ollie, what… what is… it?”

“There’s… there’s someone,” Oliver answered and took steps towards the source of light. “You guys stay there. I’ll have a look.”

When he was closer, all the blood in his body froze: it was a tent, and inside there he saw a figure of a man. For a second Oliver even had to wonder, was the creature inside alive, but when it moved he gulped and gathered his courage. They needed help after all.

“Ko… konbanwa,” he whispered outside the tent, not daring to enter. Oliver hoped that speaking Japanese would make him less threatening for the solitary man. What was he doing anyway in an eerie forest just at the time when it was getting dark? 

“Get out,” the inhabitant of the tent replied with a harsh accent. “American tourists! You are not allowed here.”

Not even bothering to clear out they weren’t American, Oliver tried to explain: “I… I’m sorry, but we just got kinda lost with my friends and we’d need some help. Do you happen to know the way back?”

“You shouldn’t have come in the first place,” the cold voice replied. “It’s your own business to get out of here. I don’t want to be involved.”

As his last resort, Oliver opened the door of the tent just slightly enough to show his face. There he saw a man who was sitting in a bent down position. His extremely weary, dark eyes turned to the intruder immediately.

“Are you… ok?” Oliver asked with a gentle voice when he felt sorry for the miserable sight. How on earth had he been thinking he might be dangerous? “Do you need help with anything?”

The man averted his gaze on the ground and started to speak by himself: “You should never take anything from the forest. You shouldn’t even enter if you care about your spirit, your afterlife.” He rocked back and forth and continued: “But for you and your friends, it’s already too late. Too late to be saved.” He started sobbing while shivers ran down Oliver’s spine. Too intrigued though, he couldn’t move. 

“Too late… everything’s too late… All is lost,” the man mumbled between sobs and sniffles. “Too late…”

“E-excuse me, I don’t u--”

The man turned his head. His mood changed in a millisecond: instead of that small and crying, miserable creature, he now had a fiery gaze that startled Oliver. Eyes black as pieces of charcoal, he shouted: “Get out from here and leave me alone! There’s no escape, you are already _cursed_! You should have taken the warnings seriously, but now it’s too late!

You _will_ suffer your punishment, I’ll tell you!”

Not knowing how he should behave, Oliver didn’t manage to form any coherent reply. Almost whispering, he just thanked the man for his so-called help and bowed before he left. He stayed in front of the tent, taking a deep breath before he went back with his friends.

“Well, what did he say?” Schneider asked, not noticing how pallid their bassist had turned. “Did he know how to get out?”

Just forcing a tiny smile on his face, Oliver shrugged. “No avail. He… wasn’t so fond of tourists.” That was partly true, at least.

“Fucking hell!” Richard shouted and, standing up from the rock, dug up his phone from his pocket. At this point, Oliver was relieved not to be bombed with further questions. Their guitarist though had other concerns. “And how fucking great, no signal! How are we supposed to get out now?”

Oliver checked his phone and saw the depressing sign as well: no signal. Everyone else had the same. Their modern gadgets, in everyday lives almost invincible, turned out to be rubbish now when they would have been much needed. _Great._

“You know what. I think we aren’t supposed to get out,” Till, who had remained calm the whole time simply stated and continued: “Our only option is to stay overnight then. I’m not going to walk through those roots and rocks again any more in the dark, so I’d suggest we’d just make ourselves comfortable and go back tomorrow.”

As no one had any better ideas, they surrendered. Richard was about to start going nuts and didn’t want to cooperate at first so Paul hugged him and whispered something to his ear. Flake huddled himself tightly against Till's side when Oliver tried to think where they should camp when they weren’t prepared.

With the flashlight from his phone, Oliver searched his surroundings and exclaimed: “Hey, I found something!”

The other guys gathered around him and saw what it was in the bassist's hand: a piece of fabric. Nothing more than an abandoned, broken raincoat or such, but in these conditions, it was no use to hope for five-star luxuries.

“Well, I guess it’s better than nothing,” Flake stated in his typical dry manner before they settled their wannabe shelter.

Seeking the warmth from each other in the night that was getting chilly, the six men huddled next to each other tightly under the fabric. Some of them tried to sleep the bizarre situation away while the others were way too excited to even try to doze off.

Like a cuddly toy from hell, Till held his souvenir in his hands and admiring it in the dark, started to think out loud: “I can only wonder, what the story of this doll might be. Why does it look so wrecked and why was it abandoned in the first place?”

Flake, who was one of those who wanted to have some sleep in the lousiest conditions possible, grunted: “Till, can you just stop it before you start?”

But the singer, a gifted storyteller, didn’t mind the request - he was on fire. “What if the girl who owned this…”

“Who said it must be _a girl_?” Richard had to interrupt. He either didn’t like where this was going, so he tried to distract Till by pointing out useless details.

“Well, what if the _child_ to whom this belonged, saw something so horrendous he got lost and ended up rotting here alone.” Eyes fixed on the doll, his mind was racing. “Maybe his poor little body is still here with us tonight. All alone here, in these cursed woods.”

Paul snorted. “Oh c’mon! Someone probably just dropped it and got sad before his parents bought him a new one. End of story. No need to form a tragedy from this.” Pleased for the safety given by the dark, he pressed himself tighter to Richard. “And what could even be so terrible in a forest that a little child would lose his favorite toy? It’s only branches and trees here, nothing more.”

Till turned closer to Paul, and with a flashlight illuminating his coarse features just enough, said: “Well, for example, seeing your parents turn insane and committing _a suicide_ in front of your eyes could be a start.”

Paul just blinked his eyes. He knew their singer had a wry sense of humor, but why now, in the worst possible moment? “Fuck you and your stupid ghost stories!” He could only wonder was it getting colder or why he was shivering so much. At least, Richard’s warmth right next to him was consoling enough in this bizarre situation. Just that it would be better if Till would shut up. “Stop saying things like that, we already know your mind is fucking twisted enough, thanks!”

With a rustling sound, Till lied back to his former position. He had a sly smirk on his face - he loved telling horror stories, especially when he managed to cause a reaction on someone. “I know why the warning signs are here. This place is not only sacred - it must be haunted. Think about all we have seen today: clothes, ropes, and stuff that once belonged to someone. Did you see those shoes, neatly lined up next to each other? I think we are surrounded by restless spirits who have ended their lives here.

I sense we are _not_ welcome.”

“SHUT UP ALREADY!” Paul shouted, “IT’S NOT FUNNY ANYMORE!”

Oliver had listened to the discussion in silence. He hadn’t told his friends about what the old man had said to him in the tent earlier. Along with Till’s words, the pieces of the puzzle started to form a coherent bigger picture. Oliver’s stomach was getting sick by a nasty knot that had been there since they had entered this place.

_You are already cursed. There’s no escape. You are already cursed. There’s no escape,_ Oliver could hear those words again, whispered by the faint wind. Shit, this was soon going to be psychotic if he didn’t calm down.

Till put the doll aside and let out a burst of laughter that was so out of place in this situation. “I must take a leak now,” he said and stood up. “Sweet dreams, princesses. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

“Do you need a friend to check your back?” Richard asked with a slightly trembling voice. “You saw it yourself how easy it is to get lost in here and who knows what kind of hungry animals there are lurking in the shadows.”

Just waving his hand, Till said: “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not that gay yet I’d need pee company.”

“Don’t go too far,” Schneider said, an unusual hint of concern in his tone as well. “Just in case of... animals, yeah.”

When the singer’s figure disappeared in the dark, Richard muttered by himself: “I didn’t mean to be gay. I was just trying to be nice, but whatever.”

Maybe it was fatigue from the day’s walking or just trying to forget where they were, without noticing it themselves, one by one they fell into a restless sleep. 

Till was whistling a melody of “Steh Auf” by himself - Oliver could recognize their singer’s own band’s song before the exhaust took him over into the sweet oblivion of sleep. 

_Should I still go to check on him?_ was the final thought before he drifted away from this world. 

~***~

The first one to wake up was Richard. To his horror, his bladder was reminding him it needed to be emptied. As the last thing he wanted in this horrendous trip of theirs was to have to spend the rest of the night with wet pants, he grunted and stood up.

He was about to nudge Till awake and admit he was gay enough to need a companion in the pitch black, but before he could do so he shivered when he noticed something.

When he fumbled on the place where the singer used to be, Richard’s hand didn’t meet the familiar body of his old friend.

“Umm, g-guys…”

Oliver rubbed his eyes. Even though he was normally the best sleeper among them in weird places, he now noticed a pulsating ache in the back of his neck. When he opened his eyes the world revolved in front of his eyes and he had to concentrate for a while where he was. “Reesh, what… what is it?”

Richard gulped. “I don’t know but… Till hasn’t… come back.”

With that statement, Oliver forgot his threat of the upcoming headache and stood up in a record time. “W-what? You are joking, right?”

Their discussion, which was taking a desperate tone, woke up the others as well. “Holy shit, how long did we sleep?” Paul asked, not able to ignore the worrying rambling around him anymore. 

“I… I don’t know,” Richard answered, trying to inhibit the embarrassing sobs that were now coming up to the surface. “What are we going to do now?”

“We have to go looking for him,” Schneider said, forming a plan in his head. “But let’s be close to each other. Maybe Till has just found another doll or something and forgot to come back. We shouldn’t… shouldn’t panic.” To those words, meant to be rational and soothing, he had difficulties believing in himself even. “I’m sure everything will be alright and he is just... somewhere waiting for us. Yeah, that must be it.”

Not having any other options they had to leave their lousy camp and scatter, not too far away from each other though. No one knew what there was waiting for them in the shadows - it was still silent, so silent it went into your bones and soul, exhausting you mentally and physically. 

_You are cursed. It’s too late,_ the wind still whispered to him, Oliver was sure of it. He wondered could anyone else notice it or had he gone insane already.

With every passing second of their singer missing, the knot in Oliver’s stomach tightened and tightened. _Come on you asshole,_ he thought and wanted to kick something hard, to forget the anxiety when he checked behind a big tree - empty, as assumed. J _ust jump from the bushes and scare us, but please, come back._

But there was no sign: just that same stillness all over, covering them like a thick, black cloak. The world had stopped around them. One could easily forget their life outside the forest - now it started to make sense why this place was considered sacred.

Or as Till had said, _haunted._

_What time was it even?_ Oliver could only wonder. In his head, he was so dizzy he was sure he’d soon faint.

“Hey, I found something!” Schneider shouted out of a sudden. A bit of hope was ignited inside Oliver and despite being so incredibly weary, he ran towards the drummer. 

Schneider was pointing a flashlight at the entrance of a cave. “I’m sure Till wouldn’t miss this, so maybe there’s still hope.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow and squinted - despite the tiny amount of light pointed at the cave, it was still difficult to see anything. Was this forest making him even blind? Would the darkness never end? “Are you… are you sure about this?” He slowly turned his head to the drummer who sported an expression Oliver couldn’t read. Distress or determination? “Maybe we’d go there in the morning, or…”

Letting out a tired sigh, Schneider looked at his bandmate and said: “With all the respect Oliver, I’m not sure can we afford to wait ‘til the morning.” Always so positive and sure of himself, the heavy atmosphere of the forest was taking its toll on him too. “So, are you with me or not?”

The other guys had gathered around them as they spoke. Some clattering could be heard - it was probably Flake and his teeth when his friend had disappeared. No one said anything - they didn’t have much choice besides entering. Not even Richard started his typical complaining about everything. 

Oliver knew that if no one else would do it, at least Schneider would go alone and that wasn’t an option - they didn’t want to lose anyone anymore. 

Once inside, they tried their best to make sure they’d stay close to each other, but in the pitch black, it was challenging. They had to walk through icy water that was covering the ground. Flashlights and phones pointed at every corner and stone, but they didn’t see anything that would catch their interest. No footsteps, clues, nothing.

In the cave, one could see their breath and the overall moisture didn't make it any more pleasant. An eerie soundtrack with a mixture of water drops and the echoes of their silent steps filled Oliver’s tired ears. When your vision is constantly blocked, your other senses start to overreact.

So many questions were in Oliver’s mind: so many what-ifs… He should have just been stricter and told them to turn around… This was all his fault… 

Or maybe this was just a sick prank of Till’s? The singer had disappeared earlier in their travels, leaving the rest of them worried sick. Still, every single time, he had appeared, just having a sarcastic smirk on his face, telling them: “Why do you look like that? I was just having a bit of fun.”

Oh God, how much Oliver wanted to see that face - no matter how mocking - again.

Something definitely wasn’t right in this. They made songs about bizarre and disturbing things, but that didn’t mean they wanted horror in their lives _for real_. It was just art - not method acting.

While Oliver proceeded in the cave, seeing Schneider right next to him, he heard a loud thud, followed by a scream.

It was Richard who reacted at first. “Paul, are you alright, PAUL!” he shouted in the dark. Oliver still couldn’t see where they were - it was impossible to locate them in the deep cave. “PAUL, WHAT HAPPENED?” Richard still tried. “OH FUCK--”

For a second Schneider and Oliver looked at each other before they started running towards the sound. “Reesh, wait, we are right there,” Schneider tried to soothe while something stopped him. “Where is Paul?”

All the blood in Schneider’s body froze when he reached his friends. “Oh, shit… no fucking way,” he mumbled. That was the last straw - he lost his cool. “RICHARD! GET OUT OF THERE, NOW! WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE, shit shit shit!”

“Schnei, what--” Oliver, who had come to the situation just now tried to ask, but it was too late: something hit him hard in the head and he could only see stars dancing in front of his eyes. At the same time when his feet got limp, something warm poured on his face - a metallic taste eventually met his lips.

“Paul… Schneider…” Oliver mumbled with the last remains of his strength when tears gathered in his eyes, “I’m… I’m so… sorry.”

Then it was just a painful grip from his arm and he was dragged like a lifeless rag along the cold, wet ground. Even worse was the fact he couldn’t fight back. 

If the world wasn’t black enough before, now it was completely shut down.

~***~


End file.
